When I open my eyes, the blue light's blinking. That's weird. That could mean a text message, an e-mail, or a game alert.
Swearing vengeance on Candy Crush, I reach for my cell phone and unlock it.
It's a text- from Master. No salutation, no conclusion, just one instruction: Wear the plug today.
I rub my eyes as I sit up and stare at the bright little screen in my hand.
I don't WANT to wear the plug today.
I have to leave for work in fifteen minutes, so I toss my phone down and roll out of bed, and throw on a comfortable sports bra and underwear, a cut-off t-shirt, and old tight jeans- the kind that I don't mind if they get dirty.
I reach into the shoebox under my bed and pull out the medium-sized butt plug I got this year, at my Master's request. It's stainless steel, with a fake blue jewel at the end- and awfully uncomfortable.
I steal down to the kitchen, though no one's really awake and moving yet. A small jar of coconut oil sits in my pantry, and I take a spoonful and quickly bring the plug and the oil into the nearest bathroom.
Coconut oil, allegedly, is one of the better substitutes for true lube- and it smells good. I smear some on the plug and some over my ass, slowly working one, then two of my fingers in. For a moment it feels really good, and I slip my opposite hand down to flick over my clit. I imagine my Master's there with me, fingering my ass before he fucks it, playing with my clit to remind me that anal play can be just as fun and that all things pleasurable come from him.
Suddenly I remember that I work in 30 minutes, and I shove the plug in, Snap a proof photo to Master, and bolt out the bathroom door and to my car, grabbing a banana on the way.
I make it to work only two minutes late, and am set to work mowing the lawn. I usually enjoy this job- the sun's shining and I have music in my headphones, but right now all I can think about is the intrusion in my ass that wasn't lubed well enough this morning.
Feigning a water break, I slip to my car, remove the plug, and toss it in my passenger seat. What Master doesn't know won't hurt him. Or me. Right?
I return to work and enjoy the rest of the morning. At noon I return the mower to the garage for my hour lunch break, and stop dead in my tracks.